


Sweet Dreams

by hunenka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s05e18 Point of No Return, Gen, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 06:31:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunenka/pseuds/hunenka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In season 5, we saw Lucifer visiting Sam in his dreams, trying to persuade him to say yes. But Sam wasn’t the only one getting nightly visits from above.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Dreams

They always come at night when Dean falls asleep, and they bring Hell into his dreams. It’s like he’s back down in the Pit. It all fits perfectly – the glint of a sharp blade, the loud crack of a whip, the hiss of a red-hot iron pressed into skin. The satisfied, arrogant smiles of the ones carrying out the torture, their taunting comments, the derisive sneers, the never-ending repetition of “Just do as you’re told and this will all be over.”

Yes. Exactly like Hell.

Except there’s no fire and brimstone, and there’s no Alastair, no demons at all.

“Say yes to Michael,” Zachariah demands for a billionth time, and Dean, because he’s feeling defiant tonight, spits in the angel’s face. There’s a brief moment of satisfaction as he watches the glob of saliva mixed with his blood slipping down the angel’s shocked, disgusted face.

Then there’s more pain.

*

It always seems longer, the time Dean spends imprisoned in those pain-and-despair-filled dreams, as if the times stretches into infinity and when he wakes up in the morning, covered in cold sweat and shivering, gasping for breath, he feels like the night lasted a couple of years at least.

He doesn’t tell Sam, of course. Sam has enough trouble on his mind already, his own “Yes” that he mustn’t say, his own doubts and fears that he must overcome.

And anyway, even if Dean did tell anyone, there’s nothing to do about it, no way to stop Zachariah and his bunch of sadistic dicks with wings. They can’t reach Dean physically, thanks to Castiel’s sigils engraved into Dean’s ribs, but that’s about it. No spells, no hex bags, no nothing can keep them out of Dean’s head when sleep comes.

He just has to man up and endure.

Again.

*

“I know what they’re doing to you,” Castiel tells him all of a sudden, when he’s alone with Dean, Sam having ran off to do some research. “Zachariah and the others,” he adds unnecessarily, studying his fingers with great interest and Dean realizes that’s why the angel hasn’t been able to look him in the eye recently – he feels guilty.

He should say something back, ask for Castiel’s help, maybe. But if there was a way to help him, Cas would’ve done it already, so there’s no point asking.

The angel confirms his fears with his next words, mumbled so softly they’re almost unintelligible. “There’s too many of them, and they’re too strong, and I can’t reveal myself to them. I…” He looks up finally, throwing an ashamed, remorseful glance at Dean. “I’m sorry, Dean, but there’s nothing I can do.”

Dean’s been expecting that, no, he knew that, but for some reason the finality of Cas’s words still hits him like a punch to the stomach, stealing the air from him. He licks his suddenly dry lips and swallows difficultly.

“Just… don’t tell Sam, okay?” It comes out sounding small and scared and pleading.

Castiel nods. “If you wish.”

There’s uneasy silence between them.

“Cas?” Dean says finally, because this question’s been bothering him for weeks now, and he needs to know the answer. “Me not saying yes to that son of a bitch… is that really the right thing?”

“I believe so,” Castiel runs one hand through his hair, mussing it up. It’s such a human gesture, all insecurity and doubt, undermining the resoluteness of his statement.

*

Cas was wrong when he said there was nothing he could do for Dean. Just knowing that there’s someone else apart from Dean himself who knows what’s being done to him, someone who cares, holds him afterwards and makes it bearable until the next nightmare comes... It actually helps quite a lot.

“You’re pathetic, nothing but a worm staining the sole of my shoe,” Zachariah tells him when Dean’s bound and defenseless against the onslaught of pain. “You mean nothing, you weak, pitiful, filthy creature. Nothing at all.”

Dean believes him, but that’s not a reason to stop fighting.

“You’re brave and strong, and the love you have for your brother, for your family, is a powerful force,” Cas tells him when Dean’s in his arms, safe and protected, even if just for a moment, accepting the comfort without shame. “You are a good man.”

Dean doesn’t believe that at all, but the fact that Castiel clearly does gives him just enough strength to keep going.

*

A long time ago, before Dean’s deal with the devil and before Hell – it feels like another lifetime – Dean always used to try to keep his pain inside, bear it with dignity in stoic silence.

Hell has taught him better. There’s no dignity in suffering, and there’s no point in covering up the fact that you’re hurting, because a) they _know_ it hurts, that’s why they do it, and b) you’re just wasting precious energy that you need to keep your resolve strong.

So Dean cries and screams and sobs and whimpers, trashes in his bonds and struggles, but when they ask him to say yes, he always answers with a “Fuck no,” no matter how shaky and weak his voice sounds, no matter how tear-strained his face is, no matter how much he begged them to _stop, please stop_ , just a few seconds earlier.

*

By the time Zachariah’s done with him for the night, Dean’s a bloody, trembling, weeping mess on the floor, a heap of mangled flesh barely holding together.

“Say yes,” the sadistic bastard singsongs, crouching above Dean with a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “You’re going to do it anyway, so why don’t you spare yourself the pain?”

“Fuck that.” Dean gets in a few labored breaths. “’M not gonna just roll over and be your bitch.”

Zachariah stands up and pokes Dean in the ribs with the tip of his shiny, polished shoe, jarring the broken bones and eliciting a pained grunt from the man. “From what I’ve heard, that’s exactly what you did in Hell.”

But that’s not the same. Back in Hell, Dean didn’t know how much depended on him staying strong. He thought all he was losing by accepting Alastair’s offer was his own soul. And, let’s face it – he never considered his soul to be something of much value to begin with.

This time, it’s different. He knows what’s at stake here: half of the world’s population being erased by the apocalyptic battle, innocent people dying, families torn apart. He can’t accept that.

As long as there’s hope and good and joy in the world – never mind that it never will be there for Dean – it’s worth it to keep fighting.

If he's sure of one thing, this is it. “I won’t break again.”

*

And in a way, he really doesn't.

When he changes his mind, when he decides saying yes to Michael is the only right way after all, it’s not because of what Zachariah’s been doing to him, and it’s not exactly a change of mind, either.

It’s more of a change of perspective.

Dean’s aim is still the same: saving as many people as he can, keeping the world as safe as possible. He used to think that becoming Michael’s vessel and defeating Lucifer at the cost of destroying half of humanity was too high a price to pay, he used to believe there was another solution.

But somewhere along the way, he’s lost the last remains of faith in… well, not himself, because he never had that, but faith in Team Free Will and its ability to stop Lucifer without harming anyone else.

Sacrificing one half of the planet to save the other half? Still better than insisting on solving the problems without the angels’ help, ultimately failing and then destroying the whole planet.

Yes, Dean used to dream about fighting the good fight, about defying fate and creating their own destiny. Those dreams were beautiful, but they were still just dreams, and now it’s time to wake up and face reality.

Dean spots a street preacher on the sidewalk and heads towards him.

He’s ready.

END


End file.
